


Tainted with Blood

by isuilde



Category: Arslan Senki | Heroic Legend of Arslan
Genre: Hurt Narsus, M/M, Stolen Kiss, Timeline What Timeline, does this count as hurt/comfort tho lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 18:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5753773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isuilde/pseuds/isuilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Narsus,” Daryun’s voice resounds in his head instead of his ears, a sure warning that his consciousness is wavering. He’s losing this battle. “You idiot.”</p>
<p>Narsus breathes out a tiny chuckle. “I figured I could get out.”</p>
<p>“Looks like I’ll be the one to get you out of here,” he’s being pressed up against a familiar body, muscles all tensed up and prepared, and Narsus kind of hates how it makes him feel safer already. “You owe me this one.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tainted with Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I was wondering what kind of situation would be for Narsus to kiss Daryun in the midst of the battlefield without him being too out of character. whiteantithesis over on twitter said "Injured!". I accidentally ficced it out.

This is probably bad. It’s definitely worse than he’d thought.

He’d misjudged the depth of his own injury—an earlier attack from his side, a sword piercing through that he’d dismissed as a graze—and he supposes that is a fatal mistake as a strategist as well as a combatant. Judging from how his sight blurs just now, he’d probably lost a fair amount of blood—enough to make his stance shake and his grip on his sword slacken. Narsus swallows, allows himself a second to laugh at himself, before turning around to assess his situation.

Thick in the midst of Sindhuran soldiers. Too many men on his way, not enough Parsian soldiers around him. He will not be able to reach safety without fighting his way through, which he isn’t sure if he could, with the way his lower garments are soaked by blood by now.

A movement to the side, and Narsus finds himself parrying the sword of another, knees nearly buckling at the weight. He grits his teeth, summons whatever strength he has left to knock his opponent back and thrust his sword through his chest. His sight blurs, once more, and Narsus sways alarmingly to the side this time—

\--only for a strong arm to catch him on the waist, its grip steady and firm, taking most of his weight easily with a small grunt.

“Narsus,” Daryun’s voice resounds in his head instead of his ears, a sure warning that his consciousness is wavering. He’s losing this battle. “You idiot.”

Narsus breathes out a tiny chuckle. “I figured I could get out.”

“Looks like I’ll be the one to get you out of here,” he’s being pressed up against a familiar body, muscles all tensed up and prepared, and Narsus kind of hates how it makes him feel safer already. “You owe me this one.”

He laughs, almost breathless, and his sight darkens with the energy he spends for that. “Then I should hope that this will make up for it.”

He pushes himself up, staggering, and reaches out to pull Daryun down and press their lips together—a fleeting peck on the lips, tainted with blood—and Daryun’s grip on his waist tightens.

“Narsus,” it’s an order, Narsus knows. “Stay with me.”

“Will do,” Narsus promises, and breaks it five seconds later.


End file.
